


You Are Mistaken, Sir

by JackTheSoldier



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Historical RPF, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Based on the idea that Ben and John look alike, excuse me for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-01-30 16:37:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21431362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackTheSoldier/pseuds/JackTheSoldier
Summary: Tallmadge and Laurens get mistaken for each other numerous times.WARNING: Historical Fiction, including made-up scenarios and opinionated scenarios.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, Caleb Brewster/Benjamin Tallmadge, Nathan Hale (1755-1776)/Benjamin Tallmadge (Past)
Kudos: 77





	You Are Mistaken, Sir

John Laurens had to admit, he had never seen anybody quite exact to him other than his younger brother James until now. Benjamin Tallmadge almost looked like John's own brother, and because of their military family, one could call them such. 

The Major from New York was such a reflection of John's own face that he thought he was looking in a mirror when he greeted him. John's powdered hair was the only thing to set them apart, as he saw the chestnut brown color of Benjamin's hair. Otherwise, both had near the same eyes and face and the structure was very similar as well. They both had their hair tied back in a braid and both had glittery epaulets set on their shoulders (though Laurens had only one at present, being a volunteer and such). Tallmadge apparently saw it as well, and they had a mutual look of surprise in their striking blue eyes, the only difference of them being the flecks of brown in Ben's own and they grey in John's. 

They had never seen a man so exact to themselves before until now, and yet here they stood, almost brothers, Washington's men, reflections of Northern and Southern blood. 

* * *

Laurens sharing a tent with Tallmadge only came to be a problem when people came by to retrieve one of them for the General. A few times, a Lieutenant Brewster dropped in and laughed at himself for seemingly seeing double. It wasn't until the third time he entered when he realized that they were not, in fact, a mirage of each other. 

Tallmadge had to explain to his friend that Laurens had joined Washington's staff as a volunteer aide until further notice, and Brewster laughed again at his slip up. They were properly introduced and Laurens apologized for the misunderstanding, which was met with the Lieutenant's own apology. 

"Now I assume the only way to tell you an' Tallboy here apart woul' be to check 'is shoulder! He got a nasty scar from a ranger attack last year," Brewster laughingly said and Ben flushed with embarrassment. Apparently John hadn't been meant to know that, but he didn't address it. 

Ben was taken off to Washington, leaving John on his cot in their tent, wondering what just happened. 

* * *

"Laurens, please write a letter to your father on this matter," General Washington made a gesture with his hand as if brushing aside the order. He rubbed his forehead with his other hand, trying to clear a headache. 

Washington's aides-de-camp all looked up in confusion, including Ben, who had been waiting to give his report on the recent movements of one of his spies. The room was dark, so could the General really be at fault? The candles had run low and winter had taken the sun from them so early. 

Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton cleared his throat from the General's side. "Sir, Laurens isn't here at present." 

The General looked up and scanned the room again in surprise. His eyes fell on Ben Tallmadge, who was looking confused as ever and turned to face him more. In the darkness, it was the two epaulets that gave it away. 

"Ah, yes, my apologies. It is late and I am not-- Hamilton, if you would go find him for me and tell him to draft a letter to his father on the matter of supplies." Not a question or a favor, a command. 

"Yessir. I'll do it immediately." 

Hamilton stepped off and Ben stepped up to the place he was standing to deliver his report. 

* * *

"Lieutenant Brewster, if you would contain yourself for one second--"

"I got the report! I know Ben was shot! Let me through!" A familiar voice shouted from the outside of the medical tent. Laurens could hear it through the fuzz in his head and he looked around, wondering where Ben was if he was truly shot. Surely, he thought, they would be near each other. 

Well, Germantown was a mess, so who was he to judge if Ben was taken elsewhere? 

"Lieutenant, stop! That's an order!" Someone's thickly accented voice called out and the tent flaps were thrown open anyway. 

In walked the bearded man and he stopped short with a Frenchman behind him. Lafayette. 

"Lieutenant, Monsieur Laurens was the man you heard of. Major Tallmadge is gone to His Excellency to report on the battle and to devise our next plans. Now please leave Laurens be," Lafayette kindly explained and opened the flaps of the tent to lead Caleb Brewster away. 

"I'll tell Colonel Hamilton for you, Laffy." 

"Do not." 

"What?" 

"Laurens is wounded and soon to be moved as we move as well. Hamilton has much work and the General has commanded I do not allow the word of this to reach him. It could distract Ham and we do not need him to not work at moment. No one shall know. I sit here for the reason," Lafayette said and saw Brewster away. 

John was left to wonder what just happened. 

Hamilton was not happy when he learned of the events that transpired. 

* * *

Setauket was quiet and John loved it. As an errand to Ben, who was busy, he was sent to work with the spies that they had established into a small ring. To receive the news and personally meet these spies was an honor and a relief, as John was happy to finally be welcomed and trusted as a part of this. Now, he just had to find the pair Ben had told him of and all would be well. 

He had dressed in a simple set of clothes that Ben had lent to him, not including his breeches, his boots, and the hat. A white shirt, brown waistcoat, and a black coat with oak brown pockets was the unsuspecting uniform of a spy that Benjamin Tallmadge, John's metaphorical twin, had given to him. They had all fit perfectly. 

So John Laurens in his honey-blond hair and dark clothes was hiding from the British occupants of this small town in the poorly built basement of the burnt Woodhull home. Ben had told him specifically what to do, and that meant calling Woodhull by his real name to avoid his capture in the small town. The rumors of Culper were spreading due to a certain Colonel Simcoe in the area, and he was on a witch hunt to find the spy. Nobody who knew about Culper was happy. They knew that he had fucked himself. 

When John was situated carefully in the corner of the basement, he simply waited. Surely Culper would come along soon. 

He lied in wait for hours before the man himself opened the door and waltzed in. He noticed something was off immediately and John shifted. 

"You sure took long enough, mister Woodhull." 

He paused and jolted and squinted at the man in the corner. "Ben?" 

John shook his head. "Try again." 

"Who are you?" 

"A certain Lieutenant Colonel Laurens. Major Tallmadge sent me to gather information. So what do you have for me?" Laurens flashed a smile at the farmer in front of him. 

Woodhull seemed to think for a moment about what to say next. "You're not Ben?" 

"Trust me, I think I should know if I was," John assured and pulled off his hat to show the spy his honey-colored hair. 

"You're really a Laurens?" 

John internally sighed. Of course, everyone would know the name. "John Laurens, to clear everything up." 

"The oldest of Henry Laurens?" 

"Yes." 

"You were sent by Benjamin?" 

"Yes, now can we please move on?" 

"Why do you look so much like him?" 

"That's not important right now, mister Woodhull!" 

"Fine. I'll tell you what I know, but I have Simcoe on my tail and I cannot talk about spies because--" 

"Yes, I've heard, you fucked yourself over and I can't talk about any of this, but please tell me you have more to tell me. If I return to the Major with nothing, he'll have nothing for Washington and we'll have both our asses handed to us," Laurens snapped, finally done with this mouthy spy. No wonder he couldn't stay quiet. 

"Okay, fine. Our man in New York got word that John Andre has more spies of his own, and he can't be certain but he thinks he got a list of names," Woodhull said in a hush and dug a piece of paper from his boot. 

John took it from him. "You're certain these are genuine names we can trust?" 

"As far as I know. He hasn't been wrong yet." 

John smiled as he looked at the list. A few names he had suspected. "Good man, Woodhull. Now I need to go and--" 

The basement doors swung open and a brown-haired woman walked down the stairs to stand in front of the two. "Abraham, I need--" 

She paused once she saw John. "Ben?" 

"Jesus Christ," John mumbled just as Woodhull shook his head and corrected her, "It's Colonel Laurens." 

The woman paused. "Colonel Laurens? As in Colonel John Laurens?" 

"Yes, please, I need to go and get this news to Major Tallmadge, so please let me go!" John said sternly and turned to the exit to leave. 

"Colonel, I'm afraid that will be a problem. That's what I came to discuss." 

Laurens stood on the stairs and glared back at the two. "What now?" 

"There's a patrol of Regulars on their way looking for Abe. His father needed him and asked a few soldiers to get him," she sighed. 

"Anna, you tell me now?" 

"I came as soon as I heard!" 

"Listen, lovebirds," John said as he stuffed the list he'd received into his stockings, "I need a distraction. If you can provide that, I have a perfectly fine way to get out of this, all provided by your own Major Spymaster." He pulled his pistol from his side and loaded it. He cocked it. 

"You want a distraction?" 

"Are you deaf or just bad at this whole deal, mister Woodhull?" 

He shut up. 

"Colonel Laurens, tell me what you need." 

***

"Captain Aaron! William Aaron!" Anna Strong ran out to the patrol of Regulars from the woods where John was hiding in wait. She had ruffled her dress and hair and screamed earlier to add to John's illusion of hysteric fear. "Please! Captain, help!" 

The man atop the white horse slowed down and Anna frantically tried to grab him down from his saddle, tugging against his red uniform. "What is it, Missus Strong?" 

"There's a man! There's a man in the woods! He's dressed in blue and white and green and he's hiding there! He tried to take advantage of me, please, get him!" Anna cried to them, and her acting skills were paying off. She was gasping and crying for their help. 

John stumbled out of his place and sprinted away to another tree to prove that she was right. 

"He's a bloody rebel! She's right! Privates, get to the woods and capture that bastard and I'll get Missus Strong to shelter," the Captain shouted and John whipped his pistol from his body and aimed to one of the Privates who was having trouble getting out of his saddle. 

His shot hit the man right through the neck before he could get his right foot out of the stirrup, sending him limp and causing his black and white mare to panic and rear up and try to get away from the dead man now lying beside her. Anna screamed and the Captain who had pulled her onto his own saddle moved faster to get away from the mess. The other Private pursued. 

John moved again from the tree he was hiding behind and kept running to hide behind Woodhull's own house. The Private followed and fell right into John's trap. As soon as the Private rounded the corner, he grabbed the man around the neck and pulled his knife from his belt to stab the Private through his neck, and again, and again. Then he dropped the man, and as he was dying and gurgling out his last few breaths, John leaned down and stuck an already bloody hand against his wounds. 

"For Major White." 

The man shuddered and went limp as blood poured from his mouth and the wounds in his neck. 

"Mister Woodhull, there you are! We've been looking all over for you!" John heard the Captain say from the house behind him. 

"Captain Aaron, is everything alright?" 

"No! You have a violent rebel on your property, mister Woodhull! You need to get to safety! Your father has been asking after you!" He snapped and Anna whimpered in an attempt to stifle her own sobs. 

"Well, if there's a rebel outside, I can't very well get to my father, can I?" 

"Now is no time to jest, sir! He tried to take advantage of Missus Strong!" 

Then it was quiet, and John took a moment for himself to go to where the Captain had lazily tied up his horse. John calmed the beautiful stallion and started to search the saddlebags for any information. He took what he thought looked nice or what he thought would be useful. Once he was finished, he used his sword to cut away the saddle and pulled the bridle off of the horse. 

"Go on, handsome boy. You'll find someone better in Washington's camp or in Philadelphia," he said in a hushed voice as though the horse would understand him. "Hyah!" John cried and the horse took it as an invitation to run away. 

John did the same to the remaining two horses, but with the one carrying a dead man, he cut the stirrup away before he could calm the black mare. He hushed her and pressed a kiss to her nose before apologizing and telling her the same as he had with the two before. "Go on, girl." 

She needed no other invitation to leave. 

John was narrowly missed by a musket-shot and he spun to see the Captain holding a long musket, which he was frantically trying to reload. John took the moment to sprint to cover, which happened to be back behind another house. 

Before the Captain could find him, John filled his pistol with more gunpowder and shot, and rounded the corner to see the man standing there, feet away, unprepared for John to fire his pistol out of shock. 

He crumpled to the ground, dead. 

A shot through the chest. 

Woodhull and Anna were watching from the door of the house. Both looked pleased. 

John pulled the cap of a Queen's Ranger from his pocket that he had taken as a token from a raid they had done not a month ago. It would surely be fresh in Simcoe's mind. He rolled the Captain over and placed the cap over his wound to cover it. 

Woodhull was within a few feet now and John smiled. "You have the note?" 

"As you wished." 

He handed him a note. 

John Laurens smiled and placed it under the short, lopsided end of the cap. 

He got up and nodded to the pair of spies. "You're doing a great service to your country. Thank you both." 

"Get back to camp safe, Colonel." 

"And you two remain out of trouble." 

"Yes, sir." 

Woodhull sent him a mock salute. 

He returned it and didn't bother to search the Captain's body for special information. Anything he had of value was on his horse. He set off for his horse. 

**TO THE RANGERS: **   
**COURTESY OF THE TWIN OFFICERS OF WASHINGTON'S STAFF **

* * *

"I can't believe you murdered three British Regulars. I send you for one piece of information and you return a day later with bloody cuffs, a list of names we may not be able to trust, and news of three Regulars dead in Setauket," Ben groaned and looked up at the too-proud Colonel. 

"I got more than a list, Major," Laurens smiled and sat down to tug his boots off. Once he did, numerous maps, papers, packs of gunpowder, coins, and other little trinkets and documents spilled onto the floor. "Are you proud yet?" 

Ben was in awe of these accomplishments. "You did this?" 

"Of course! I stole from the lobsters like a good patriot boy should, Benny. I even freed their horses." 

"Freed?" 

"Pillaged the bags, broke the guns, and took off their saddles and bridles, Ben. I let them go free," John said. 

Ben laughed. "You're a good man, Jack." 

"I've heard that once or twice." 

"Don't be cocky. I know Colonel Hamilton likes to stroke your ego, but you need to stay humble." 

"Of course." 

"So I take it the rangers are going to be upset with the pair of us now?" 

"More upset than Yale was with you and Captain Hale for breaking windows when you were drunk, sir," John teased and tipped himself backward in his chair as he tugged a flask from his pocket. 

Ben gathered the things at his feet. "Ah, confident, are we?" 

"Very." 

* * *

"There they are! The Twin Heroes of Washington's Office!" Colonel Meade laughed as they entered the sitting room of the house they were staying in. He was clearly drunk. "Ham's told us all about yer adventure, Laurens!" 

John chuckled and took a seat by the man himself. "Has he now?" 

Hamilton smiled back at him. "I couldn' do it justice." 

"Hm. Would you like to hear the story from the man himself then?" Ben offered and made a face as Lieutenant Brewster sloppily poured him a glass of Madeira. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind regaling the tale." 

"Well..." John sighed. 

The aides in the room spoke up. "Aww, c'mon, Jack!" and "What a damper, Laurens!" filled the air, and Alexander turned to John with a drunk smile. He leaned down to be level with the other soldier who was sitting on an ottoman. 

"Won't you tell us, Jackie?" He said quietly and he gave in. 

"So I'm sent to York--" 

A cheer erupted in the room. 

***

"Wild night, Jack?" 

"I'm just pleased that nobody is mistaking me and Ben anymore." 

"Hmm. We're learning. Your hair is much prettier." 

"My blond?" 

"Yes." 

"You're drunk." 

"Maybe so." 

"Y'know Ben knows about us?" 

"Hmm?" 

"He knows about us, Alexander." 

"No reason to stop, is it?" 

"I suppose not. He had a similar relationship. With--" 

"Captain Hale. I'm aware." 

"Really?" 

"Yes." 

"Clever man." 

"Me or him?" 

"Yes." 

"John?" 

"Yes?" 

"I'm glad you're alive." 

"So am I." 

"I may have mistaken you for Ben when you first walked in, but you're obviously you right now." 

John smiled at the redheaded man who was laid sideways in his chair. "Thank you." 

"Benny," Tilghman whined and collapsed beside John. 

"You are mistaken, sir. Ben is over there." He pointed to the Spymaster who was still sitting with Brewster and joking with him. They were sitting too close to be friends, much like Alex and John. 

"Ah." 

"As usual," Hamilton chucked. 

"Of course." 

**Author's Note:**

> The Twin Portraits of Laurens and Tallmadge are amazing. This is a strong headcanon and you cannot change my mind on it. Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
